Harry Potter and the Dragon's Eye
by Jas-Black
Summary: Harry, Hermione, Draco and Ginny are back for Harry's fifth year, and after Harry discovers he and the others have strange powers they can neither explain nor control, they are sent to a different wizard school to master their magic.


**Harry Potter and the Dragon's Eye**

**Chapter One**

**NASTY BEGINNINGS**

Harry Potter lay facedown on his bed rewriting his letter to his godfather, Sirius Black, for the seventh time.  A 15 year-old boy with jet-black hair and brilliant green eyes, the only thing that set him aside from all other ordinary teenagers was the piercing red scar that slashed his forehead. But Harry Potter was no ordinary teenager. He was a wizard in his fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and ready to start a new term the following day.

He cleared his throat, and stared at his letter. 'Dear Sirius,' he read. 'I hope you are well... I know it's been a long time since I wrote to you...' No. That sounded stupid and boring. He screwed the parchment he was writing on into a large ball and threw it across the room at a small photo of his cousin Dudley. It smashed into the wooden frame of the photo, which toppled onto the floor. With an almighty crash, the glass inside shattered into thousands of tiny little pieces.

'Sh-' began Harry as he heard footsteps on the stairs outside, and then leapt off his bed to conceal the mess.

The door flung open, and Aunt Petunia stormed into Harry's room. A fairly tall, skinny woman, she had nerves of steel and a temper to match. 'What the hell do you think you're playing at?!' she screamed hysterically, noticing the shards of glass and wooden splinters piercing the carpet. She shot Harry an I've-Caught-You-And-There's-No-Escape-This-Time look. Harry gulped. He could hear the steady _thump-thump_ of his uncle's boots on the stairs outside. He couldn't look at the door. This could not be good.

Uncle Vernon strode in. He was a broad, beefy man who took great delight in criticizing and putting Harry down at every possible opportunity. He smirked at Harry. 'Well, well young man,' he said loudly, not trying to hide his enjoyment of this moment of power. 'What have you done this time?'

Harry swallowed hard, a knot tightening in his stomach. He suddenly felt very sick. 'Uhh... nothing, Uncle Vernon.'

Aunt Petunia faked hyperventilation. 'Oh you wicked boy!' she cried, throwing her arms up into the air.

Gazing lazily at Harry, a glint of wickedness flashed in Uncle Vernon's eyes. 'Well, boy. We'll just have to punish you for this. We brought you up into this world teaching you respect and good manners; we can't have you destroying our house by violence or,' he glanced furtively at his wife, 'any... other... means.'

Harry gulped. His stomach rumbled noisily, and he could tell that whatever punishment he was about to receive could not be good.

Uncle Vernon smirked again. 'I gather your... school... starts tomorrow. Am I right?'

Harry's head jerked upwards at the mention of his beloved Hogwarts. He went cold inside as he slowly nodded.

'Well. I suppose you are expected on the first day of term?'

Nodding again, Harry began to feel extremely nauseous. If his punishment as what he thought it was, Harry was going to have an very nasty start to the year.

Aunt Petunia leaned towards him. 'In that case, you'll just have to miss the first...' she glanced at her husband.

'Week,' Uncle Vernon supplied. 'You will have to miss the first week of term. Let this be a lesson to you, boy.'

Harry couldn't believe his ears. Miss a week of term?! It was just too much. What were they going to do with him? He knew they couldn't stand him being in their house - they'd much prefer him to go to Hogwarts and never come back.

His aunt seemed to have read his mind. 'You can spend the week doing garden jobs and staying locked in your room at all other times,' she said nastily.

Harry stared at her in disbelief. 'B-but...' he began desperately.

'No buts,' Uncle Vernon grinned. 'You'd better get to work...'

Harry balled his hands into fists, but slumped back onto the floor in resignation. 'Where do I start?' he whispered.

***

Exactly four hours later, Harry lay, exhausted, on the front lawn of Number 4, Privet Drive.

He had successfully managed, (in the last three hours), to get the lawnmower out of the Dursleys' garage, walk three miles - and back - to the nearest petrol station, (because the Dursleys thought the exercise would do him good), fill up the mower with half a can of petrol, then pump the starter-cord for all it was worth, (without managing to make it start), turn the mower upside down and fiddle with the engine until at last it coughed and spat petrol in his face, and then finally mow the lawn.

After Harry had gone inside to let his relatives know that he'd finished, Dudley cried, 'Eww! You smell!' and Uncle Vernon stomped downstairs, sniffed once, made a face and then raced upstairs to the bathroom as if he would be suddenly, and violently, sick.

Aunt Petunia was standing in the front room, surveying the damage to her precious lawn, (and watching Mr. Next-Door sunbathing topless), when Harry burst in through the door. Petrol fumes oozed up her nostrils, and she glared at him in disgust. 'You smell repulsive, boy!' she said with distaste. 'And just look at the state of you!' she cried. 'Out! Out of my house!' And she gripped the front of his, (Dudley's), DragonBall Z t-shirt, and dragged an already hot and sweaty Harry Potter back out into the front lawn.

Running back inside, she slammed the door closed, before yelling through the letterbox, 'And don't you even THINK about coming back in for tea until you get rid of that smell and make yourself look more respectable!'

Harry stared up at the blazing sun overhead, sweat coursing off his face, and pulled off his t-shirt.

He'd grown a lot during the summer. After gaining nearly a stone, he found, (to his great satisfaction), that he was getting muscles forming on every inch of his body, and, (more to his annoyance), lots of facial hair. Rather than embarrass himself in front of the Dursleys by asking for a razor, he'd simply taken, (_borrowed,_ he reminded himself), Uncle Vernon's.

_Things really couldn't get any worse_, he thought to himself, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

'Harry!' cried a voice behind him. He whirled round.   
Hermione bounced up to him, wearing a stunning summery yellow dress and carrying some letters in her hands.

_No_, thought Harry, smiling to himself. _It was **Hermione** who looked stunning._ She had grown too - and not just taller. In the late afternoon light, and at that particular moment, Harry was sure that she was the most beautiful girl that ever walked on earth. The yellow dress she was wearing did nothing to hide her figure. And what a figure! She was... _curvy_, Harry thought, and his heart missed a beat, although he didn't quite know why.

Her hips and waist were more defined, and her chest had grown. But the thing he noticed most about her appearance was that she looked physically fit, and _tanned_.

Hermione smiled. 'I've been staying in Portugal with my parents, but I realised I hadn't written to you yet.'

Grinning weakly, Harry felt his knees tremble slightly. Her smile made his heart flip over.

She held out the letters to him. 'These are all for you - most people figured you wouldn't want them to use Owl Post, and I told them I'd be visiting you, so I thought I'd bring them.'

Smiling at her, Harry took the letters. Opening the first, (from Hagrid), he watched her over the top of the parchment.  He felt, rather than saw, her eyes roam over his bare shoulders and chest. He caught her eye, and she coughed slightly, (_in embarrassment?_ he wondered).

'I had to do some gardening,' Harry explained, nodding at the lawnmower behind him.

Hermione nodded. 'You've grown so much Harry,' she said quietly.

Catching her eye again, he said, (a little too quickly), 'So have you.'

She looked away.

'Anyway,' Hermione said, looking back at Harry. 'I really must be going, so I'll see you later - at school, yes?'

She quickly leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

Smiling at her, he breathed, 'Yeah.'

It was only after she'd gone that he remembered he was missing the first week of school. Harry groaned to himself. Life was so unfair.

***

Uncle Vernon's purple face ballooned as he took in the scene of disaster in Harry's room.

'What the hell do you think you're doing?!' roared his uncle, glaring at the shattered remains of Harry's bedroom window.

'Well, you see...' Harry began, but Uncle Vernon refused to listen. As the large, heavy man crunched his way through the carpet of fragments of glass, he managed to flick one of the many lethal shards upwards; in doing so cutting the bare skin of his exposed leg and causing his nephew to wince.

Uncle Vernon's mood was **not** going to be much improved by this current situation.

Wheeling around, Uncle Vernon limped menacingly towards Harry.

'I want an explanation, boy, and I want one NOW!' He shouted the last word so loudly that even Hedwig jumped in her cage. 

Glaring at the short-tempered man, Hedwig rustled her feathers in annoyance at being disturbed.

'Well,' began Harry, but his uncle held up a hand to silence him.

'Did this involve Dudley?' Uncle Vernon asked, eyeing the large white owl.

Harry nodded solemnly, following his uncle's gaze. _Owls are not supposed to be kept in cages_, thought Harry, _if I could just run over and..._

'I ASKED YOU A QUESTION!' stormed Uncle Vernon.

Looking at his uncle, Harry replied levelly, 'I did nod.'

'Oddly enough, I can't hear you nod,' shot back Uncle Vernon, his voice dripping sarcasm.

He turned as if to leave the room, and that was when Harry saw his opportunity. Undoubtedly he would be in far worse trouble than now, but poor Hedwig had been trapped in the confines of her octagonal prison for too long.

Inhaling deeply, Harry lunged forwards and flicked the cage door open, allowing Hedwig to fly out of the open case and through the window where the pane of glass had been.

Just as the snowy owl flew free of her cage, Uncle Vernon spun on his heel and yelled, 'POTTER! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING WITH THAT RUDDY BIRD?!' and proceeded to try and grab Hedwig before she escaped.

Finding himself clutching empty air, Uncle Vernon rounded on Harry.

Harry pushed his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose, and studied his uncle as he slowly turned crimson with rage.

'I'll just go to the bathroom then,' Harry murmured, moving towards the door, but Uncle Vernon put himself between his nephew and the only means of escape.

Too enraged to even speak, Uncle Vernon just stood there furiously _boiling_, Harry thought. _Any minute now, he'll explode._

'DUDLEY!' screamed Uncle Vernon. 'PETUNIA!!!'

Sighing, Harry sat down miserably on his bed. It was Dudley who had started all of this by coming upstairs and taunting Harry about his 'girlfriend' who had come to visit him the previous day. Harry had told him firmly that Hermione was just a friend from school, but Dudley wouldn't listen. Dudley taunted and teased Harry to the point of rage, and that was when both Harry's emotions and magic powers had gone out of control. The £200 reinforced double-pane of glass had smashed into a thousand pieces.

Behind Uncle Vernon, Dudley sullenly entered the room, casting his eyes over the tiny fragments of glass with an expression of bewilderment.

_Great_, thought Harry bitterly. _I'd forgotten what a good little drama queen you are. They won't even listen to my side, so I might as well not even bother._

As Aunt Petunia bustled in, wearing a cookery apron and smelling faintly of violets, Uncle Vernon said, 'Well?'

Shooting Harry a dark look, Dudley said sweetly, 'I came up to ask Harry about his... _friends_... and he flew at me. And then the window smashed.'

He blinked innocently at his mother, who enveloped him in her arms and patted his head, muttering, 'Poor Dinky Diddums...'

Uncle Vernon stared at his nephew. 'Is this true?' he asked.

'Hermione's not my girlfriend; she's just my friend. She doesn't even like me,' said Harry sourly, eyeing Dudley.

His cousin released himself from his mother's arms, and gazed at Harry. 'Oh yeah?' said Dudley with a knowing smirk. 'Well _friends_ don't kiss each other like that.'

Feeling his cheeks turn red, and remembering how the sight of her made him feel so strange, Harry realised that his insane cousin was probably right.

'So what are we then?' Harry asked, but Dudley had already left the room.

***

Sitting thoughtfully on his bed, Harry wondered what the significance of Hermione's kiss was. Did she like him? Or was she just happy to see him? And what if Dudley was right? One thing was for sure: Harry would have to decide his own feelings for Hermione.

Suddenly remembering all his unopened post, Harry leapt off his bed and removed the letters from their hiding place in the laundry basket.

He had already opened Hagrid's, but not yet properly read it. Unfolding the thin parchment, he recognised Hagrid's untidy scrawl:

_Dear Harry,_

_Hope you had a good holiday. Remember, term starts on Monday - don't forget! We've got some new teachers coming - but you already know two of them. Can't say more than that!_

_All the best,_

_Hagrid._

Harry smiled to himself. Good old Hagrid - luckily there wasn't a present from him too... Hagrid had very strange taste when it came to presents, as Harry had found out when he had received the _Monster book of Monsters_ for his birthday. It was just a shame he was missing school.

The next letter was from Ron, and read:

_Hiyah Harry!_

_I've had a great holiday - Mum booked us a week in Florida, and we went swimming with the dolphins! Charlie's back in Romania with his beloved Norwegian Ridgebacks, but he's coming back to Hogwarts... to teach Care of Magical Creatures! Don't tell anyone I told you though - it's meant to be a secret. Dumbledore said he couldn't think of anyone more perfect for the job, (although Hagrid did his best)._

_So anyway, hope you had a good holiday, and see you at school!_

_Ron_

'Charlie?' Harry said to himself. It was unbelievable. Charlie was one of Ron's elder brothers, and had quite a reputation for looking after dragons. But why was he teaching at Hogwarts? Harry was happy, of course, but it did seem like a bit of a strange career move...

Ginny's letter was third, and written in a beautifully immaculate hand.  Ginny had always had a thing for Harry, but they'd gone from embarrassed teenagers to close friends after the basilisk incident in the Chamber of Secrets. Secretly, Harry thought that Ginny was really quite pretty, but she was the sister of his best friend, and a little too young for him.

_Dear Harry,_

_We've had a fantastic holiday in Florida, as Ron will have told you. I hope the Muggles didn't give you too much grief... they can be a little misunderstanding. Except people like Hermione's parents, of course._

Harry felt his heart flip at the mention of Hermione, but he ignored it and carried on reading.

_Ron is hoping I'll wind up with a boyfriend at Hogwarts, but it's only because he thinks I talk about you so much._

Harry stared at the letter. Was Ginny saying she didn't like him? That seemed a little strange also... He carried on reading.

_Ron just doesn't understand. Of course I like you, but it would be too weird, you and me, although I wouldn't say no to trying!_

Grinning, Harry realised that that was probably just Ginny's way of hiding her embarrassment.

_Anyway, if you ask me, I think Ron could do with a woman to put him in his place - a younger sister just isn't enough!_

Harry laughed. Ron and girls? Sure, he liked plenty, but he wouldn't know what to say to one if it crawled up his arm and bit him on the nose.

_As for you, I think you should try your luck with Hermione - you might be pleasantly surprised..._

He stared at the letter.  What did Ginny mean by that?  It wasn't as if Harry fancied Hermione... she was just a friend as far as Harry was concerned.  Most people had just assumed that the famous Harry Potter had a thing for Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Chaser, (which was sort of true), ever since that Yule Ball, and Harry had certainly made no attempt to disillusion them!

Then another thought hit him. Did Ginny mean that Hermione liked him? Feeling slightly queasy now that he had something to worry about, Harry carried on reading the letter.

_Anyway, enough of that talk. It's not good to be overly optimistic._

_On a different note, Dad tells us that the Malfoys are getting divorced! That's a bit of a shock, seeing as Draco's always seemed to have had a stable home life._

'Divorced?' cried Harry. 'And how does Ginny know about Malfoy's home life?!'

_Not that you're interested, of course, unless you were to know that someone has something to tell you regarding their divorce... someone like... Sirius, maybe. I can't say more than that._

_Anyway, best of luck, and lots of love, (always),_

_Ginny_

Harry frowned. What would Sirius have to do with the Malfoys breaking up?

***

For the next few days, Harry was made to do heavy manual labour, mowing the lawn, gardening and walking long distances for no reason, or otherwise firmly locked in his room living off scraps of food that were pushed under his door.

On about Thursday, four days into the new Hogwarts school term, a small brown owl zoomed through the empty window and crash-landed on his bed.

'Pig!' cried Harry by way of greeting, but Hedwig hooted menacingly at the intruder.

'Oh come on; you've met Pig before!' Harry said, going over to stroke his jealous pet.

Pigwidgeon was Ron's new owl, after the Weasleys' old family owl, Errol, was retired. Hedwig had never been hospitable to other owls, since she became jealous of the fact that they were being used to do her job!

Harry had no time for Hedwig's manners, (or rather lack of), and immediately set about extracting the letter from an excitable Pig.

After steadily wrestling with the annoying little ball of feathers, Harry grabbed the letter and ripped open the parchment envelope. He knew that it had to be from someone at Hogwarts - firstly because Pigwidgeon had flown in and not an owl from the Ministry, and secondly because nobody outside Hogwarts knew where he lived.

To his surprise, the letter was from Fred and George.

_Dear Harry,_

_We are writing this in a bit of a rush, but things call for desperate measures! Hermione wanted us to send you a picture of her in Portugal, and we thought you'd want it ASAP. Sorry for using owl post, but we were kind of anxious, considering your not being at school for the first three days. Reckless! Dumbledore says you've probably got a good reason, but McGonagall suspects something. You'd better have a good explanation - you know what Hogwarts is like..._

_Love, Fred & George._

Inside the envelope was a wizard photograph encased in a silver-mesh frame. It was indeed a photograph of Hermione in Portugal - she was striking a provocative pose in front of the camera, dressed in little more than the skimpiest of bikinis, and with a view of the seaside behind her.

Picking up the photograph, Harry ran his finger along the ridged edge, and sighed in irritation. It would be another three weeks before he would be back at school. Another three weeks before he would be able to see both Hermione and Ron again. He turned the frame over in his fingers, feeling the heavy weight of the metal in his hands.

Just as he started daydreaming about the possibilities of what might happen when he got to Hogwarts, he felt a pulling sensation on his stomach button, and lurched upwards into the air.

It was a feeling he recognized immediately: the photograph had been a Portkey (an object used by wizards to transport themselves great distances with seconds) and he had just apparated into the Great Hall of Hogwarts School.

Applause and cheering greeted his ears as he landed on the cold stone floor of the Great Hall, but it was not for Harry. The school had been gathered for the daily assembly.

A First Year girl with frizzy blond hair poked Harry in the ribs. 'What are you doing here?' she mouthed; unable to compete with the din.

Harry scowled at her, but realised he was still dressed in his muggle clothes. 'A Portkey,' he explained, but gave up when he realised the girl didn't know what he was talking about. 'Gotta go,' he said, and winked.

Jogging towards the doors, he found himself confronted by Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts.

'Professor!' Harry began, ready to explain, but stopped short when he followed the teacher's gaze to the photo. Embarrassed, Harry shoved the frame into his trouser pocket, and met Dumbledore's eyes.

'There is no need to explain, Harry,' said the Professor. 'I believe Fred and George Weasley will be able to explain everything in great detail...'

Harry frowned. 'Fred and George?' he whispered.

Dumbledore caught his arm, and walked with him to the Gryffindor common room. 'I understand they sent you a photograph of Miss Hermione Granger, which was also a Portkey? I think this explains your sudden appearance in the Great Hall...'

Bowing his head, Harry mumbled, 'Yes sir.'

'I believe Fred and George put the Portkey there deliberately for you to find... I think it is also safe to say that you are now with us for the term.'

'But my stuff!' Harry cried in realisation. There was no way for him to go back to the Dursleys and retrieve it now.

'Harry, Harry, please,' Dumbledore said, patting Harry's shoulder. 'The twins invited themselves into your room last night whilst you were asleep, and took your belongings. I think they were also going to take you with them, but thought better of it after... ahem... last time.'

Harry knew what he meant. In the second year, Fred, Ron and George had arrived at 4 Privet Drive in a flying Ford Anglia, and had taken Harry with them. However, the plan had backfired, and Mr Dursley caught Harry and nearly prevented him from escaping. Then there was the issue of missing the train... _At least_, thought Harry, _I had an excuse last time_. The excuse, of course, was Dobby the house-elf, who got it into his strange mind that Harry should not go back to school, and had blocked off the barriers. The net result was Ron and Harry having to 'borrow' Mr and Mrs Weasley's Ford Anglia and fly it to school.

'Let's go and talk to them, eh Harry?' Dumbledore said, a twinkle in his eye. 'I'm sure you'd prefer to hear it from them.'

'But...' Harry began.

'I know what you are going to say, and the answer is no. No-one is in any trouble, Harry. I realise the issues concerning your home life, and I would appreciate it if you were to just trust me.' The professor smiled. 'I believe your classmates are waiting for you.'

***

**REFERENCES:**

None in this chapter.

IN THE NEXT CHAPTER:  A familiar Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher appears, and Harry discovers the truth about Sirius' involvement with the Malfoy family.


End file.
